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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25202740">Gee Willikers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoBeBold/pseuds/SoBeBold'>SoBeBold</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Humor, M/M, Makeup, Makeup Sex, oblongs au sort of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:09:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,154</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25202740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoBeBold/pseuds/SoBeBold</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night, when Clint goes to bed, he hears Steve and Bucky having sex upstairs. When they have a falling out, Clint gets insomnia.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>119</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gee Willikers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_plan/gifts">perfect_plan</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy birthday to me! This is a gift to myself but also Perfect_Plan who writes incredible fics for this fandom. </p>
<p>Disclaimer: I just wanted to finish this nonsensical bullshit. It's truly unfortunate how ubeta'd it is. Hope y'all enjoy it anyway.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The suckers finally admitted they were gone for each other, had been in a relationship for a year, and were ready to move in together. Why, what better place than Clint’s building? They took the unit right above him, a spacious (for New York) two bedroom facing the street so they got a little light.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The first night Bucky and Steve spent in their new place was right after a successful mission. At four am, Clint was finally settled and ready for bed. He laid down, curled up under the covers, and closed his eyes. That’s when he heard it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Thud. Thud. Thud. </em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clint cracked one eye open. “What the hell?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Thud, thud, thud, thud.</em> There was a guttural moan above his head. Then another, louder and longer. It sounded an awful lot like Steven G. Rogers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clint couldn’t believe his good fortune. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. They’re having sex.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A voice came down like surround sound; “Harder, Buck, harder.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>THUD, THUD, THUD.</em> Mortar dust fell from the ceiling in an grayish puff. Steven Grant Rogers, Captain Fucking America, moaned louder. James Buchanan Barnes, Winter Fucking Soldier, told Captain America to say he liked it, which Captain America did. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is awesome! I need popcorn.” Clint ran to pop some. Those two had super soldier stamina; Clint had plenty of time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The show didn’t end anytime soon. Clint sat cross-legged on his bed with his buddy Orville Redenbacher. “Those geriatric patients are fucking like teenage rabbits,” he said in wonder.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Finally, the literal climax. Captain America announced, in his booming, righteous, apple-pie, all-that-is-good voice, that he was coming.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh, God. Oh, God. <em>Oh, God.</em> Gee willikers!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clint almost pissed himself laughing. No one had said “Gee willikers” since the 1920’s at the latest. He was gonna give them so much shit for this tomorrow. Clint smiled, made himself into a blanket burrito and fell into a deep sleep. They’d saved the day again. His best friends were happy. All was right with the world.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Clint brought it up to them, as soon as humanly possible, Steve turned into a tomato and Bucky proudly patted Steve's ass. “We do good work, don’t we, Barton?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Sounds like an A+ job to me. Keep it up, soldiers.” If Steve was any redder he’d be the Kool-aid Man.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bucky and Steve lived above Clint for a year. Every night they had really loud super soldier sex, and every night, it sounded roughly the same. Sometimes it was in a different room (they liked the kitchen). Sometimes, on their days off, they had sex marathons that lasted all day. Clint knew Steve was grateful for those super-healing powers then. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Sometimes it was slower, like after a mission when they tried not to aggravate each others’ wounds. Sometimes it was faster, like after they had an argument and it was make-up sex. Was it perverted for Clint to know his friends’ sexual habits like the back of his hand? Of course it was. Was he ashamed? Hell, no. He’d join up if they’d let him. Clint stretched out in his bed after another hand day of world-saving, knowing his friends would bone as he drifted off.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh God. Oh God. <em>Oh God.</em> Gee willikers!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Satisfied and strangely comforted, Clint fell asleep. He’d never slept better in his life.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>They’re yelling, </em>Clint thought, looking at the ceiling. He heard their arguments, too, and while he was never happy about it, he trusted they’d work it all out. They always did. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> This one sounded different.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Steve slammed the door as he walked out, and Clint heard Bucky’s metal arm pulverize some appliance Clint would have to fix tomorrow. He half-expected Steve to knock on his door, because lots of fights ended with one of them on his couch. They really couldn’t stray far from each other, and it made things easier when the other inevitably came to retrieve them, teary-eyed and begging. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not this time. Steve stomped down the stairs and soon the sounds of his motorcycle engine faded in the distance. Bucky cussed up a storm, and more things got pulverized by the metal arm. Clint wondered if he should go up there before his building got torn down but <em>hey, they’re rich as fuck, if they wanna pay for a remodel they can be my guest.</em> Eventually there was silence, but it was angry and tense like the moments before a bomb goes off. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So, Steve and Bucky didn’t have sex. Clint couldn’t get to sleep, and he didn’t know why.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The next morning he saw Bucky in the hallway. Bucky snarled at him like a bear fresh out of hibernation. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good morning to you, too, dickwad. Where’s Steve?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How the hell should I know?” Bucky snapped. His hair was a tangled mess and his eye bags were as dark as his Winter Soldier paint-mask shit.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s the stupidest fucking question I ever heard. Who the fuck else would know where Steve is?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I haven’t the fucking foggiest. Somewhere being an asshole.” Bucky threw a hand up like he didn’t care. Clint narrowed his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What happened last night?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Didn’t sound like nothing.” Bucky glared at him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was nothing, Barton, drop it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It must have been something, because Steve didn’t come back, and because The TV was turned up too loud half the night, probably from Bucky trying to drown out his loneliness for Steve. Clint banged on the ceiling with a broom handle so he would cut that shit out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Steve and Bucky didn’t have sex. Clint didn’t sleep a wink.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Things at Stark Tower were tense, because Bucky and Steve had to see and work with each other but they weren’t happy about it, and it had the entire team on edge.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thor,” Bucky says, “Would you please tell Captain America to un-wad his fucking manties?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Thor, gleefully ignorant to any problem, probably thinking this was a Midgardian ritual, dutifully parroted. “Friend Steven, Friend James would like you to un-wad your fucking manties. What does this mean?” He asked with a sparkling smile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I knew it, Steve. I always took you for a red lace kind of girl,” Tony said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bruce shook his head, looking like the tiredest old man ever. Well, right after Clint. Steve barely blinked an eye. “Tell the Winter Soldier to go to hell.” Thor did.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Would you please tell Captain America to stop being a manchild?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Would you please tell the Winter Soldier to suck my dick?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s what you should have been doing <em>last night</em>,” Clint snapped, at the same time Thor told Bucky to suck Steve’s dick.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No Super Soldier Sex.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clint turned into a zombie and blew the next day’s mission. What should have been a routine roundup of drug cartel members operating on the Panamanian border turned into backup flying in to clean up his mess after half of the cartel scattered back into the jungle. Fury didn’t miss the opportunity to dress him down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Whatever’s going on, Hawk, you better damn well fix it.” Clint thinks, <em>how is Fury’s stare-down game so great with only one eye? The rage quadruples his eye power. That’s gotta be it.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can’t sleep, Fury.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You mean to tell me you’re fucking up missions because you need a nap?” Clint swayed and tried to blink away the fog in his brain.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No. No sleep…four days…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What you need, a motherfuckin’ Ambien or something?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Took…seven…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Barton, take your pale freckled ass home and don’t show your face until you’ve gotten your shit straight.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, sir.” Clint stumbled out.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Miraculously he made it home without crashing anything or filling anybody full of arrows from his sleepless short temper. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stumbled up the stairs to hear Super Soldier Yelling. Steve had a bundle of clothing in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Steve said, “I don’t have to put up with this bullshit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bucky said, “If you’re gonna leave, this time don’t come back.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine, I won’t!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clint grabbed two handfuls of his unkempt, unwashed hair and screamed, “Enough!” They stopped abruptly and stared at him, dumbfounded. “You dumb fucks. You mean to tell me that <em>you’re</em> just gonna walk away.” He pointed at Steve. “And <em>you’re</em> just gonna let him.” He pointed at Bucky. “After all you’ve been through. You fell in love at a time when being gay was totally unacceptable but managed to have a relationship anyway. You assholes fought Nazis together, got super-serumed up, got separated approximately fifteen hundred times, survived ridiculous odds and like, a whole century, found each other again, found happiness for the first time in your miserable endless lives, and you’re going to let whatever this bullshit is come between you? What the fuck are you even arguing about?” Clint was sure his sentence didn’t make sense, but his brain was too scrambled to care.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Steve and Bucky looked sheepish as hell. “A couch?” Steve squeaked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A couch? A goddamn couch?!” Clint flailed while they winced.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It sounds awful stupid when you put it like that, Hawk,” Bucky muttered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A little bit of perspective goes a long way.” Clint amazed himself with how much of an adult he was being today.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just…Bucky threw it out without telling me.” Steve turned to Bucky, his face murderous. “That couch was from our first place together, when we first became roommates. It meant a lot to me. I told you I wanted to keep it, why would you go behind my back like that?” Bucky held his arms out, then dropped them to his side with a slap. He let out a long breath and somehow looked small.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Stevie, I just thought…we have each other now, and that’s what’s important, right? I looked at that raggedy fuckin’ thing and I saw memories of us being dirt poor and you being sick, and of us having to hide being queer. I hated looking at it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Bucky, we used to listen to Yankees games on that couch and read each other the paper and huddle under the covers when it was cold. The first time we said I love you, the first time we kissed, the first time we…you know, it was on that couch.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Go on,” Clint encouraged. Steve ignored him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I know you hated it. I know it was a piece of shit, but it was a part of us.” Bucky ran metal fingers through his hair, eye trained on the ground. “Never looked at it like that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “And didn’t want to listen when I tried to explain how I felt. You just said I was freaking out over an old relic that was better out of our lives.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Bucky held out his arms and Steve fell into them like a fainting fucking Disney princess. Bucky rested his forehead against Steve’s, and Steve clung to him for dear life. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so sorry, Doll. If I knew how much that piece of shit meant to you, I would have never thrown it out. It wasn’t right, because it belonged to you. I should have asked you about it. I should have been a better guy and apologized to you instead of getting defensive. You’re more important to me than any piece of furniture, Stevie. You’re more important to me than anything in this world. I love you, you jerk.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have made you think I’d leave you over something as dumb as a couch. I love you more, you big stupid lug.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bucky fit their lips together. Steve deepened the kiss immediately and made it sloppy. Clint’s eyebrows flew up as Bucky squeezed America’s ass in hims palms. Steve hissed and wrapped a leg around Bucky’s waist.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clint nodded, satisfied. “My work here is done.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bucky shooed him away as he kissed the hollow of Steve’s neck. “We owe you one, Barton. Now scram.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I can’t watch the show?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not tonight.” Hope brightened Clint’s eyes. “But maybe another night?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’ll think about it. We’ve been thinking about making a little video. Might need a cameraman.” Bucky winked. He maneuvered Steve the the doorway and toward their bedroom. Clint followed, taking a step past the threshold.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dude, are you serious? Guys, seriously? Because you know I’m like, so there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Get out, Barton.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clint left, mumbling under his breath. “The fuckers act like I won’t be able to hear. What difference does it make if I peek a little? Selfish assholes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> No sooner did Clint walk into his apartment did he hear it. Steve’s low moaning. Headboard thudding. <em>Harder, Buck, harder.</em> Mortar dust. Fast tonight. Really fast.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clint fell into bed, not bothering to take his clothes off. He couldn’t explain it, but suddenly he was relaxing. His eyelids were heavy. His thoughts were drifting…</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh God. Oh God. <em>Oh God.</em> Gee willikers!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clint smiled, tucked his blankets around himself and fell into a mini coma. All was right in the world. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Did anybody else love The Oblongs? No? Just me? You have to have…a very strange sense of humor. </p>
<p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HSUctt1uKwk</p></blockquote></div></div>
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